


What Would the Press Think?

by whiry



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: 5 things + 1 thing, F/M, Fluffy, I mean I think, Kinda, M/M, Minor Kate Argent/Derek Hale, President Talia Hale, Short & Sweet, and long derek/stiles obviously, brief everyone/derek pretty much, first son!derek, i think that's all of them?? most of them??, idk i wrote this in like 10 mins, polish!stiles, presidental au, she has like two paragraphs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-15
Updated: 2016-11-15
Packaged: 2018-08-31 03:45:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,801
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8562616
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whiry/pseuds/whiry
Summary: "Fuck the press," Derek growls too lowly, and it makes Stiles smirk more."Fuck the press," he whispers back, almost excitedly.





	

1

The press sucks, but that’s not a secret. It’s also not a secret that Derek Hale hates the press and avidly avoids them as much as he can, so it’s only natural that when they catch him getting fro-yo with his youngest sister Cora, and accidentally mistake it for a secret rendezvous between lovers, he kind of blows up.

“They’re goddamn idiots, Mom! Fucking morons!” He shouts, causing his older sister Laura to roll her eyes at his dramatics. The picture’s getting crumpled in his hand, the one of him with his arm slung around Cora, who’s all bundled up in a black hoodie with sunglasses and a hat, so her face is pretty much nonvisible. She’s unrecognizable, even as the President’s youngest daughter. 

His mother stands in front of him in her red blazer and skirt, looking immaculate as always. Laura’s slumped over on the couch, reading a law textbook in her fuzzy wolf socks their grandfather bought her for Christmas when she was eight. She still wears them, of course, and the matching beanie when it starts to snow, but Derek’s not allowed to make fun of her for that. (He totally does it anyway.)

“Derek Sebastian Hale,” Talia scolds, placing her hands on her hips, which means business. Derek shrinks in on himself, anger deflating out of him. Being angry while his mom’s stern only leads to trouble—for him. “I understand your, and Cora’s, frustration, but it was an honest mistake and is being dealt with as we speak. All statements are being redacted, the matter is becoming nothing more than a light-hearted joke. Regardless, I agree that the constant prying into your private live, and love life, has nothing to do with my job as President, but, unfortunately, there is literally nothing I can do. I’m sorry, my love, but this is going to pass.”

She does that thing where she smooths down his hair while simultaneously kissing his forehead, and he just drops the matter altogether. It’s no use after she’s pulled the “Super Caring Mom” card.

As she heads off back toward her office to do what it is Presidents do, Laura cackles from her hovel. Derek kicks half-heartedly at her, but she just grins in response. Of course, she finds the whole matter funny—she’s engaged to this politician’s son and has a perfect public appearance record.

“Maybe,” she snickers, “if you had a real girlfriend, the press wouldn’t keep confusing your baby sister for your secret lover.” She rises and ruffles his hair as she heads out of the room. Derek growls and tackles her into the hallway.

+++

2

He meets Paige at some banquet that he can’t quite remember the name of. He doesn’t even really learn her last name, just that he thinks it starts with the letter ‘K’. She’s pretty, brunette and short and has a little soft smile, and she’s wearing this nice burgundy dress with the same see-through fabric Laura’s dress has, except it’s not actually see-through. She dances with him, though—actually walks up to him and extends her hand like it’s a proper dance—and she’s incredibly graceful in her movements, like a dove or bird of some kind, maybe. She keeps her chin raised at all times around other guests, but lowers it, ducks her whole head when she laughs, only at Derek’s jokes. He thinks she’s from somewhere in Europe, some ambassador’s daughter, but she doesn’t really talk about that.

They see each other once more after the banquet, right before she’s supposed to leave D.C. She talks briefly about playing the cello when they walk around the gardens, and stops him almost five minutes into their walk. She kisses his cheek, the corner of his mouth, and the only picture of them is her smiling fondly before leaving him with that terrible heartbroken look on his face.

+++

3

Everything goes downhill after that: he meets Kate. She’s the daughter of Gerard Argent, a former U.S. Senator, and sister to Chris Argent, the current Vice President. She lives in France most of the time, but during a visit to the States, she spotted Derek and tangled him in her web.

She kisses him in the darkest hallway she can find, runs her hands all over him, whispers in French. She’s beautiful, slender and blonde with a red-lipped smile and cold, steel blue eyes. She has sex with him, wild and fun, and she tells him she loves him. They’ve only known each other for three days.

On her fourth day visiting, she attempts to murder his family by setting fire to the White House. The plan was never going to work, and Chris is actually the one who finds her with a lighter near the drapes, but she was crazy and in love with the flame. They take her away, and Talia, Cora, and Laura take turns consoling Derek in any way they know how: Talia holds him and sings to him; Laura shares meals and blankets with him; and Cora doesn’t shove him as hard as she normally does when they see each other.

The pictures in the newspaper show Kate’s hand on Derek’s arm as they grin at each other, the night before the almost-fire, and then her grinning wildly and manically as she’s pulled away from the outside world.

+++

4

Jennifer comes next, a quiet Italian girl from New York City, who literally runs into Derek at a coffee shop. They sit and talk about the weather, college, and anything but politics while cameras snap photos of them freely. Derek turns away from the cameras, but he doesn’t notice that Jennifer seems to always turn towards them.

She doesn’t try to kill his family. Just him.

For almost two weeks after, he has nightmares of her face, all scarred and grotesque, shrieking as she tries to claw his heart out. His mother always comes in to hold him until after he stops screaming, until after he stops crying.

+++

5

Braeden is the nicest of them all—well, maybe the second nicest, since Derek doesn’t think anyone will ever top Paige. She’s beautiful, a daughter of some Congressman in D.C., and they meet at another damn banquet. She has a scar across her throat and cheek, and she’ll only say it’s from a hunting accident. She’s crazy strong though, a political activist for women’s rights who’s had more speeches than any other 22-year-old Derek’s ever met.

They don’t date, not officially, and they only kiss twice. But they’re good friends, and they part on amicable terms. They later pose together at several conventions where Braeden speaks, Derek always grinning proudly while she stands next to him with a confident little smirk.

+++

+1

Derek meets Stiles Stilinski the first year of his mother’s second term in office, at the inaugural ball. Stiles is the son of John Stilinski, a Polish Ambassador to the U.S., and a total troublemaker by the looks of it. His suit is just a bit too big for his overall lanky frame, and he can’t seem to keep still for the life of him. He talks to his mother in rushed Polish, quicker than other Poles seem to talk, and she only shushes him in reply.

John shakes Talia’s hand as the two families meet, and Derek can’t seem to keep his eyes off Stiles. He’s never really been attracted to guys—though he’s definitely been attracted to a couple—but something about Stiles is different. Something about him is just perfect for Derek, and it makes his own fingers twitch.

He’s handsome and beautiful at the same time, with chestnut hair and glowing ember eyes. He has little moles everywhere, and looks a lot like his mother, who’s literally the slightly more feminine and soft form of him. He speaks under his breath occasionally and watches everything except what he’s supposed to be watching. His mother has to gently shove at him a couple of times to capture his attention again.

He talks in English perfectly, with no sign of an accent, introduces himself to Derek’s mom as Stiles, though his real name is something with an M, as John had said previously. When the two families depart, Cora and Laura both have usher Derek along, while he glances over his shoulder to sneak more glimpses of the Polish boy.

The two boys don’t see each other again until the end of the night, when most guests are leaving. John and Claudia are wrapped in heavy conversation with Madame President and her husband, and Derek had lost his sisters hours ago. He sees Stiles sitting at a table by himself, sipping champagne leisurely, and can’t understand why no one has gone up to talk to the boy yet. He’s glad no one has, really, but who can leave such a special and wonderful person alone?

“Stiles,” Derek greets as he strides up to the table, gesturing to the chair beside the boy. “May I join you?”

“Of course, Mr. Hale.” Stiles grins at Derek, swiveling in his seat so they can face each other properly. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“You looked lonely, all by yourself. And we haven’t had the chance to talk all night.”

“You’ve been watching me all night, Mr. Hale,” Stiles says suddenly, smirking a little. “When a man watches his object of interest from across the room, it means one of two things: one, he wants the object as own, or two, he wants to harm the object. Which is it, Mr. Hale? Which is it for you?”

“Derek. My name’s Derek, not Mr. Hale,” Derek replies not-at-all smoothly. His palms are sweaty, and he feels like he’s at his middle school dance all over again, asking his crush to awkwardly sway with him in the middle of the dance floor while he tries not to vomit.

“Which is it, Derek?” Stiles repeats, not relenting. Derek kind of likes that, but he just huffs in response.

“Would you like to dance, Mr. Stilinski?” He says at last, and Stiles brings his champagne flute to his lips, raising a single eyebrow.

“Would it really be wise, Derek, for Madame President’s son to dance with another man? What would the press think?”

“Fuck the press,” Derek growls too lowly, and it makes Stiles smirk more.

“Fuck the press,” he whispers back, almost excitedly.

He practically drops his flute with no grace and rises to his feet, hauling Derek up as well. He leads the older man to the dance floor, grinning warmly, like the sun.

It appears in the morning papers: "Polish Ambassador John Stilinski’s Son Caught Kissing President Talia Hale’s Son After Inaugural Ball".

Stiles makes Derek frame it and hang it above their new bed.

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this in maybe ten minutes? Twenty? It was short and I just needed to finish something so I can continue working on my bigger stories. I have a nice long one in mind, but I've been in such a stump lately that everything I'm writing is turning to shit, so this may not be an exception. Hope you guys find it somewhat enjoyable though? Also, it's unbeta'd and real short and probably full of errors, both grammatically and logically (I know nothing about how the U.S. government works?) so like I said--may suck total ass.
> 
> tumblr: http://provokiing.tumblr.com


End file.
